Festive Lights - Jan 10 2023

 

Festive Lights

Jan 10 2023

The Christmas lights

have mostly come down.

The resolutions

have been largely neglected,

and the hangover

from New Years Eve

ended weeks ago.

I haven't noticed the lengthening days,

but take their word for it

because I believe in astronomy.

And although I was ready

for a mid-winter thaw,

there are months of cold ahead.

A young year,

but much like the old.

I still have hopes for it,

but after too many fresh starts

than I'd care to acknowledge

please excuse me

for having my doubts.

I'm already missing those festive lights.

The ones on the neighbour's tree,

so high

I can’t imagine

how he got them there.

The elaborate lawn display,

with a giant Santa

baby Jesus

model train,

jolly elves

inflated candy canes.

Even a few disciples,

looking suitably reverent

if badly under-dressed.

Yes, some questionable taste

but full of seasonal cheer.

Above all, a mother deer

poised on long delicate legs,

gently nuzzling

the small fawn

who shelters beside her.

They are made of interwoven boughs

lit with small white lights.

I love the simplicity

of this tableau.

How its understated elegance

so nicely represents

the true Christmas spirit.

No ostentation

one-upmanship

showing off.

And the purity

of soft white lights,

instead of bright distracting ones

flashing loudly.

One can only hope

it portends a future

that's much the same.

Because after all the disruption

conflict

and uncertainty

of a year we're glad to be done with,

we're in need of some beauty;

an interregnum of calm

restraint

retreat.

A mother deer, and her fawn

on the front lawn

of a modest home,

standing all alone

in windswept snow.

Still unbroken

and perfectly white,

glittering

in their soft reflected light.